The Most Comfortable Mask, and Other Stories
by Abby of the Cellars
Summary: This is a collection of independent/ unrelated Leroux-based one-shots. E/C, AU. The stories contain some morbidity and humor at the expense of a certain viscount. New chapter: Three Makes a Family. Christine and Erik are finally married. But Christine brings home someone who can ruin Erik's happily ever after. This time, it is Christine who teaches her maestro a lesson.
1. The Most Comfortable Mask

*This one-shot is mostly based on the book by Gaston Leroux. It is sprinkled with a dash of 1989 Phantom of the Opera movie, and seasoned with ALW musical to taste. I do not own any of the Phantom of the Opera characters. They belong to Gaston Leroux.*

**THE MOST COMFORTABLE MASK**

His voice was soft, but his words were dreadful. "It's done. We are finally free of him."

Christine glanced at her betrothed before turning towards the corpse laying on the cold stones of the opera house' lowest cellar. Thickened blood covered its fleshless visage almost entirely. The two gaping holes where a nose and a pair of lips should have been called to her like black beacons.

He felt her slight shiver. How could Christine stand to look at such ghastly image? Tenderly, he pressed on her shoulder to break her trance-like state. She looked at him then, her eyes filled with tears. "He was my friend. He loved me. I wish he did not have to die."

"And would you rather that it was I who died instead?" He challenged. Ah, he knew the thought would distress her. He knew her too well.

"How could you think that?" Christine cried. Her tears, when shed only for him, would appease his tormented heart. "You are my soul. Without you, I am dead."

He kept his silence as she cupped his face between her palms and placed a gentle kiss upon his bow-shaped lips.

"Oh, you are so beautiful," she sighed into his strong chin. "Such a pity that this kind of beauty does not last. You know that, surely?" She tilted her head. "But, I will love you no less even after you lose this." She playfully tapped the end of his perfectly arched nose.

He laughed at her strange remark, and that joyous sound warmed her heart. He caught her fingers and pressed them against the almost feminine softness of his cheek. "I have to hide the body. Then, we will secretly leave Paris. We can take your Mamma Valerius with us, if you wish. But, we need to act fast. We only have a few of hours, understand? After a day or two, I can no longer be seen in public."

She nodded in agreement. "I will get Mamma Valerius. We will pack nothing but money and jewelries. Then, we will meet you at the train station tonight… Oh, what about the Persian? He might suspect something."

He smiled at her nervousness. She was not used to a life of crime, his innocent Christine. "I already took care of that. Trust me- the Persian is assured of your safety and will not pursue us. The great booby thinks that the opera ghost is dying of love, for he told him so himself. Two weeks from now, the Persian will place a small ad in the newspaper announcing that Erik is dead."

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heart soothed her. He was unafraid. He was confident that their plan to escape Paris would work. How could she even doubt his genius?

"We are linked by fate, Christine." He assured her. "Nothing will keep us apart."

Their small party arrived at Uppsala a few days later. He rented a small but comfortable house, in the town where she first lived with her father. As the ingénue predicted, his beauty withered the day before they arrived. He woke up one morning with an unpleasant sensation on his face. When he looked at the mirror, he was dismayed to find the flesh of his cheeks hideously discolored. His nose and lips were starting to fall off. He was willing to withstand the appearance, if only for another day of beauty, but the stench of decaying flesh was becoming unbearable.

He went back to his bed and found Christine already awake. She was looking at him intently, trying to read his expression.

"Ah, my dear love," she scolded him gently. "You know that you will have to get rid of that mask sooner or later. Surely, keeping it for so long is not good for your health."

Christine grasped her beloved's hands tightly as she continued, "Our plan worked perfectly. There is no need for you to hide behind his face now. We are far away from Paris and no one will be running after us."

His yellow eyes twinkled with gaiety. "But I am starting to get used to having a perfect nose. And this," he said, pointing to the rotting skin pasted over his own misshapen face, "Is the most comfortable mask I have ever had!"

"Oh, how horrible!" she replied with a laugh, "In all honesty, I prefer your old porcelain mask over Raoul's face. A mask of human flesh I cannot tear away anytime I wish."

FIN.


	2. Three Makes a Family

*A/N: A huge **THANK YOU** to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, or followed my first story, The Most Comfortable Mask. This new chapter is my humble token of gratitude for you.

Summary: It's Christine's turn to teach Erik a lesson.

The Phantom of the Opera and all its characters belong to Gaston Leroux*

**THREE MAKES A FAMILY**

Life could not get any better than this, Erik thought as he lay comfortably on his divan, his head pillowed on the softness that was Christine's lap. Her dainty fingers played with his hair, while absentmindedly humming a soothing tune that sounded suspiciously like a lullaby. Erik was starting to drift off to a peaceful slumber when a pitiful whimper echoed from one of the chambers of the couple's underground home.

"Raoul!" Christine jumped up from her seat so abruptly that Erik almost fell, face first, on the floor.

The former Opera Ghost muttered a curse as he stood, brushing off invisible dust particles from his clothes. If only the action could also rid him of the slight embarrassment that defiled his dignity.

"You 'forgot' to bring him food again, didn't you?" Christine pointed an accusing finger at him. If there was any downside to living with Christine, it was that some aspects of him were beginning to rub off on her. The wrong ones, unfortunately.

"So, maybe I did." Erik growled through tightly clenched teeth. "That 'thing' is not my responsibility. It was your idea to keep him here, not mine." Despite his fearsome countenance, Erik's Adam's apple began to bobble as he noticed Christine's eyes narrow menacingly. His hope that this perfectly relaxing day will not be permanently sullied by their unwanted visitor slowly evaporated. In a desperate move, Erik resumed his position on the divan and motioned to Christine to join him. "Come back here. Sing me back to sleep, my dear sweet wife."

Christine did not want this to become a full-blown fight, but sometimes, Erik could be so insufferable. And right now, her husband is just asking to be taught a lesson. "You sing yourself to sleep, you despicable man! Raoul may be starving!" Armed with a sharp memory, and the truth, she mercilessly pounced at him. "We have talked about this before. We agreed that we both will take care of him. And I trusted you to keep your word."

She marched off for the kitchen before Erik could reply, which was fortunate too because her good genius has yet to come up with a good defense.

A few minutes later, Christine walked into the small room where Erik kept Raoul confined. She set a plate of meat and a bowl of water before him, and watched as he hungrily devoured the abundant meal. How her heart broke at the sight of him! Although Erik provided him with a warm, clean room and a comfortable bed, she knew that Raoul needed his freedom and her company. Her eyes welled up when she thought of how lonesome it must be to live by yourself in an underground cage. Was Erik this lonely before she came into his life? Christine stroked the fine, golden hair on Raoul's head, trying to seek atonement for her contribution to his condition. She took the key hidden inside the bodice of her dress and unlocked his chain. She straightened her back and lifted her chin as she motioned for Raoul to follow her outside. "Come, my dear. I won't let you stay alone in this place a minute longer. Starting tonight, you will sleep in our room. And heaven help 'anyone' who will attempt to defy that!"

Erik's jaw dropped as soon as Christine and Raoul entered into the living room.

"Christine! What-! What the-!" Erik stuttered helplessly as Christine invited Raoul to sit beside her on the divan.

"This is Raoul's house now. He is free to move around wherever and whenever he wishes. I refuse to allow you to treat him so cruelly!"

"I want him out."

"Erik, Raoul needs us. Without his mother, he will die out there. And I need him too. It feels so lonely down here whenever you go above. He would also make you a good companion when I have to leave you to attend practices. Just look at how sweet and gentle he is..."

"I said no!" Erik's exclamation startled Raoul and he cowered in fright."Get that thing out of my house!"

Christine took a deep, cleansing breath. Erik loved animals. He talked about having pets when he was a child, and she watched him affectionately feed the rats in the cellars and the birds at the park. What does he have against Raoul? She stood in front of her husband and cupped his face between her palms forcing him to look into her eyes. "Why do you hate him so much? "

"I don't want him here."

"Why?"

"You really need to ask me why? For heaven's sakes, his damn name is-"

"Well, it was you who named him 'Raoul', wasn't it? "

She was right, of course. When Christine first brought home the tiny golden retriever pup- who was dirty, undernourished and soaked to the skin from the rain, Erik mischievously suggested to name him after the viscount. She surprised him when, instead of earning her ire, she hugged him in gratitude, saying that the adorable pup actually reminded her of her childhood play-fellow. It was then that Erik first wondered if he married an innocent or a dominatrix.

Sensing an imminent defeat, Erik decided to play his last card. He looked at her with eyes that even the pup Raoul cannot compete with. "I hate him because you leave my side when he calls."

"Oh." Christine twisted her hands together. That was a low blow, touching upon a mistake made long ago. But she still has a fighting chance. "Well, Sorelli loves dogs. I am sure she can give him a good home. If she can't… then…" She brushed an imaginary tear from her cheek.

Erik ran his bony fingers through his thinning hair. "Uh… then, I suppose we can keep him." He sighed. There was no way he could win against a crying Christine. But, maybe, he still has a fighting chance. "On one condition."

"Tell me."

"I get to give him another name."

Christine grinned inwardly. She congratulated herself for being an excellent tutor. "Done. But I have a condition, too."

"Tell me."

"I get to name the baby." Erik hugged his wife.

FIN.


End file.
